


Pokerface

by xieathe



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bromance, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xieathe/pseuds/xieathe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha and Clint pay a visit to a friend. Contains spoilers for the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pokerface

**Author's Note:**

> I love me some Clint/Natasha/Coulson brotimes, so I wrote some, because there can never be too much Clint/Natasha/Coulson brotimes. Don't judge me.

They ante up, the assorted candies making a colourful pile in the center of the table. Natasha gives her cards a quick lookover before leaning back in her chair, kicking Clint in the shin when he starts popping some of his candy into his mouth. He swears under his breath, but there’s an easy grin on his face as he chews.

“Raise.” Coulson leans in, tossing some more candy on the pile, his face as expressionless as ever. Not for the first time this game, Natasha wonders how she got roped into playing against the world’s best pokerface. She sighs, glancing at her cards again before adding to the pot; Clint follows suit, staring intently across the table at his handler. “You have good eyes, not X-ray vision,” Coulson comments dryly without looking up from his hand.

“Working on it,” Clint replies, shrugging and leaning back into his chair. “Call.”

They lay out their cards, Clint running a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. He’s got two pair, but so does Natasha -- neither of which beats Phil’s full house. The man smiles, waving a hand, and Barton grumbles as he stands, undoing his pants and tossing them to the side where the rest of their clothes are lying in a heap. Well, mainly his and Natasha’s. Coulson’s managed to keep everything but his socks on so far, regardless of Clint’s arguing that socks don’t count.

It’s been quiet in the hospital base today, moreso than usual. Most of the staff are off and the one nurse who pops his head in every now and again gets shooed away brusquely. Coulson’s asked repeatedly to come back to work, but Fury isn’t taking any chances until he gets a clean bill of health from the doctor. So Natasha and Clint come by instead, keeping their handler company, because Natasha’s half convinced if they didn’t he’d storm the nurses’ station with a coat tie and pen to demand his release. Usually they just watch movies. Today it’s strip poker, courtesy Barton.

There’s more candy on the table, most of it Clint’s. That easy smile is back on his face despite him losing; Natasha rolls her eyes, trading in two cards. Phil’s the expert pokerface, but she isn’t bad herself, shuffling her hand and raising the bet. Clint gives her a look over his cards, serious despite the way his cheeks puff out when he grins. He raises again, followed by Coulson, and Natasha folds, leaning back to watch the boys duke it out.

Coulson lays down a three-of-a-kind, looking a bit smug. Barton stares at him over his cards, expression suddenly serious, and lays down a straight before leaning across the table to slowly drag his winnings back. Without missing a beat, Phil casually undoes the buttons of his shirt and slips it off, the puckered, white line of a scar stretching across his chest. Nat and Clint both have their own assortment of telling scars, but it’s different seeing it on Phil. Like everything, he took it in stride, commenting on how it didn’t match any of his suits.

They manage to get him down to his boxers, though you’d never tell from looking at the man that he was sitting half naked in a room with two other mostly naked people around a poker table where the currency is pieces of candy. Phil’s expression very rarely wavers, though he’ll smile on occasion, brushing a hand against her’s or Clint’s as he deals. Natasha can feel Barton casually rub his foot against Coulson’s periodically and smiles a little, nudging her partner with an elbow when he gets too distracting.

Barton’s down to the last of his candy and hellbent on making it count. Natasha’s more cautious, watching him in amusement while Phil continues playing with that calm, cool demeanour that’s become a hallmark for him. It doesn’t change at all even when he casually tosses the candy bar onto the table, looking at Barton while he sits back, cards tapping out a rhythm on the table. Clint stares, eyes narrowed. “Still not X-ray,” Phil chides. “Show me your hand.”

There’s a long, comfortable silence before Clint lays down his straight. Coulson nods, a smile tugging at his lips, and lays out another full house. “Remember not to put the whites in with the others,” he says as Clint stands, pulling off his boxers and grabbing the pile of discarded clothes. Natasha and Phil both strip down themselves, adding to the pile; Barton grumbles and disappears into the other room, but not before giving Phil and her a quick kiss on the forehead.

Coulson reaches across the table for the candy bar, unwrapping it and taking a bite. Natasha takes one when offered, gathering her things into a neat pile before joining both men on the bed for the Captain America special Phil wants to watch.


End file.
